Each day I live in a glass room unless I break it with the thrusting of my senses and pass through the splintered walls to the great landscape. – Mervyn Peake
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Our ideas are the offspring of our senses; we are not more able to create the form of a being we have not seen, without retrospect to one we know, than we are able to create a new sense. He whose fancy has conceived an idea of the most beautiful form must have composed it from actual existence. – Henry Fuseli
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